Night fell over the Nevada desert: thick, cold, with a sparkle of stars that seemed closer than ever. The lights of the NEST base shimmered on the horizon, where several Autobots stood guard, quietly chatting over internal channels. Metal echoed in the wind, and the air smelled of sand, dust, and oil — the familiar scent of the calm between storms.

In one of the hangar bays, Ratchet was tinkering with a receiver module — an old radio unit he'd personally modified. He was checking something in the units when suddenly a short, barely perceptible vibration passed through the channel. Not even a sound — a pulse. Like a breath, breaking into silence.

At first, he didn't pay attention, who knows what space junk might be wandering the radio spectrum. But the pulse came again. This time, it was soft, as if someone, very far away, was trying to call his name.

He frowned, turned the panel, boosted the frequency, and a quiet, static-distorted voice came through.

"..Uh.. Reception.. Is anyone listening?"

Ratchet froze. For several seconds, he didn't move at all, only watching the signal indicators flicker on and off, as if someone was trying to maintain contact from outside the system.

"Optimus," — he said quietly, not taking his eyes off the panel.

"You need to hear this."

Heavy footsteps echoed from the depths of the hangar — rhythmic, booming, yet unhurried. By the time Optimus approached, Ratchet had already pulled up the frequency on the main display.

"Does this sound like.. A random echo?" — Optimus began, but stopped himself.

The voice repeated itself, clearer this time, as if responding to the stronger signal.

"..If you hear this.. Please respond.. It's Y/N."

Y/N.

A name he hadn't spoken aloud for several cycles. A name that burned in his memory.

Optimus couldn't immediately utter a word.

"Repeat it." — His voice wavered slightly.

"Who is it?"

"It's Y/N.. I repeat.. I'm alive. The damage is minimal, but I'm far away.. The connection is unstable.."

Impossible.

Silence fell over the hangar. Even Bumblebee, sitting nearby, fell silent, barely detecting the emotion in his commander's voice.

Ratchet glanced at him out of the corner of his optics, and for the first time in a long time, didn't say a word. He simply switched the channel to full power, and Optimus stepped closer, almost instinctively.

"Y/N.."

His voice sounded like the rumble of distant thunder, but there was something fragile, human about it. — "We read you. Repeat the location."

"Optimus..?" — Her voice broke mid-sentence.

"Is it really you?.."

"It's me."

He took a step closer to the panel, as if the distance between them could be bridged by faith.

"Where have you been all this time?. We thought you.."

"..Dead?" — A quiet laugh, short, but painful.

"Almost. I was thrown out during the explosion on the Citadel. The communications systems were destroyed. I drifted.. for a long time."

How many cycles have passed? How many times had he looked up at the sky, knowing there was no signal, yet still hoping for even the faintest response?

Ratchet interrupted, unable to remain silent.

"Optimus, the coordinates are coming from outer orbit. Judging by the code, she's on an old fragment of the station, probably in the debris belt around the Moon!"

Optimus instantly activated the internal comm channels. His voice became decisive, commanding.

"All systems ready for launch. Bumblebee, prepare the transport. Ironhide, check the shuttle's power cores. We're moving out immediately."

"Wait!" — Your voice wavered over the airwaves.

"Don't get any closer yet.. There's debris here, and.. I'm not sure who else is transmitting on this frequency."

Optimus pressed his palm to the panel, as if touching it through radio waves.

"We'll come for you. No matter how far away you are."

"..I knew you'd say just that."

The signal began to fade, but before the channel was cut off completely, she managed to answer.

"Don't you dare disappear again, Optimus."

Then - silence.